CHAPTER XVII

  THE PRINCESS GOES GALLOPING

  A week passed--an interesting week in which few things happened openly,but in which the entire situation underwent a subtle but completechange. The mail steamer had come and gone. It brought disconcertingnews from London. Chase was obliged to tell the islanders that notice ofa contest had been filed. The lineal heirs had pooled their issues andwere now fighting side by side. The matter would be in chancery formonths, even years. He could almost feel the gust of rage anddisappointment that swept over the island--although not a word came fromthe lips of the sullen population. The very silence was foreboding.

  He did not visit the chateau during that perplexing week. It was hard,but he resolutely kept to the path of duty, disdaining the pleasuresthat beckoned to him. Every day he saw and talked with Britt andSaunders. They, as well as the brisk Miss Pelham, gave him the "familynews" from the chateau. Saunders, when he was not moping with the agueof love, indulged in rare exhibitions of joy over the turn affairs weretaking with his client and Bobby Browne. It did not requireextraordinary keenness on Chase's part to gather that her ladyship andBrowne had suddenly decided to engage in what he would call a mildflirtation, but what Saunders looked upon as a real attack of love.

  "If I had the nerve, I'd call Browne good and hard," said Britt, overhis julep. "It isn't right. It isn't decent. No telling what it willcome to. The worst of it is that his wife doesn't blame him. She blamesher. They disappear for hours at a time and they've always got theirheads together. I've noticed it for a month, but it's got worse in thelast week. Poor little Drusilla. She's from Boston, Chase, and can'tretaliate. Besides, Deppingham wouldn't take notice if she tried."

  "There's one safeguard," said Chase. "They can't elope on this island."

  "They can't, eh? Why, man, they could elope in the chateau and nobodycould overtake 'em. You've no idea how big it is. The worst of it is,Deppingham has got an idea that they may try to put him out of theway--him and Drusilla. Awful, isn't it?"

  "Perfect rot, Britt. You'll find that it turns out all right in the end.I'd bank on Lady Deppingham's cool little head. Browne may be mad, butshe isn't."

  "It won't help me any unless both of 'em are mad," said Britt, with awry face. "And, say, by the way, Saunders is getting to dislike youintensely."

  "I can't help it if he loves the only stenographer on the island," saidChase easily. "You seem to be the only one who isn't in hot water allthe time, Britt."

  "Me and the Princess," said Britt laconically. Chase looked up quickly,but the other's face was as straight as could be. "If you were a realgentleman you would come around once in a while and give her somethingto talk to, instead of about."

  "Does she talk about me?" quite steadily.

  "They all do. I've even heard the white handmaidens discussing you inglowing terms. You're a regular matinee hero up there, my--"

  "Selim!" broke in Chase. The Arab came to the table immediately. "Don'tput so much liquor in Mr. Britt's drinks after this. Mostly water."Britt grinned amiably.

  They sipped through their straws in silence for quite a while. Both werethinking of the turn affairs were taking at the chateau.

  "I say, Britt, you're not responsible for this affair between Browne andLady Deppingham, are you?" demanded Chase abruptly.

  "I? What do you mean?"

  "I was just wondering if you could have put Browne up to the game in thehope that a divorce or two might solve a very difficult problem."

  "Now that you mention it, I'm going to look up the church and colonialdivorce laws," said Britt non-committally, after a moment.

  "I advise you to hurry," said Chase coolly. "If you can divorce andmarry 'em inside of four weeks, with no court qualified to try the casenearer than India, you are a wonder."

  Chase was in the habit of visiting the mines two or three times a weekduring work hours. The next morning after his conversation with Britt,he rode out to the mines. When he reached the brow of the last hill,overlooking the wide expanse in which the men toiled, he drew reinsharply and stared aghast at what lay before him.

  Instead of the usual activity, there was not a man in sight. It was sometime before his bewildered brain could grasp the meaning of the puzzle.Selim, who rode behind, came up and without a word directed his master'sattention to the long ridge of trees that bordered the broken hillsides.Then he saw the miners. Five hundred half-naked brown men werecongregated in the shade of the trees, far to the right. By the aid ofhis glasses he could see that one of their number was addressing them inan earnest, violent harangue. It was not difficult, even at thatdistance, to recognise the speaker as Von Blitz. From time to time, thesilent watchers saw the throng exhibit violent signs of emotion. Therewere frequent gesticulations, occasional dances; the faint sound ofshouts came across the valley.

  Chase shuddered. He knew what it meant. He turned to Selim, who satbeside him like a bronze statue, staring hard at the spectacle.

  "How about Allah now, Selim?" he asked sententiously.

  "Allah is great, Allah is good," mumbled the Moslem youth, but withoutheart.

  "Do you think He can save me from those dogs?" asked the master, with akindly smile.

  "Sahib, do not go among them to-day," implored Selim impulsively.

  "They are expecting me, Selim. If I don't come, they will know that Ihave funked. They'll know I am afraid of them."

  "Do not go to-day," persisted Selim doggedly. Suddenly he started,looking intently to the left along the line of the hill. Chase followedthe direction of his gaze and uttered a sharp exclamation of surprise.

  Several hundred yards away, outlined against the blue sky beyond theknob, stood the motionless figure of a horse and its rider--a woman in agreen habit. Chase could hardly believe his eyes. It did not require asecond glance to tell him who the rider was; he could not be mistaken inthat slim, proud figure. Without a moment's hesitation he turned hishorse's head and rode rapidly toward her. She had left the road to rideout upon the crest of the green knob. Chase was in the mood to curse hertemerity.

  As he came up over the slope, she turned in the saddle to watch hisapproach. He had time to see that two grooms from the stables were inthe road below her. There was a momentary flash of surprise andconfusion in her eyes, succeeded at once by a warm glow of excitement.She smiled as he drew up beside her, not noticing his unconscious frown.

  "So those are the fabulous mines of Japat," she said gaily, withoutother greeting. "Where is the red glow from the rubies?"

  His horse had come to a standstill beside hers. Scarcely a footseparated his boot from her animal's side. If she detected the seriouslook in his face, she chose to ignore it.

  "Who gave you permission to ride so far from the chateau?" he demanded,almost harshly. She looked at him in amazement.

  "Am I a trespasser?" she asked coldly.

  "I beg your pardon," he said quickly. "I did not mean to offend. Don'tyou know that it is not safe for you to--"

  "Nonsense!" she exclaimed. "I am not afraid of your shadows. Why shouldthey disturb me?"

  "Look!" He pointed to the distant assemblage. "Those are not shadows.They are men and they are making ready to transform themselves intobeasts. Before long they will strike. Von Blitz and Rasula have sunk mywarships. You _must_ understand that it is dangerous to leave thechateau on such rides as this. Come! We will start back together--atonce."

  "I protest, Mr. Chase, that you have no right to say what I shall door--"

  "It isn't a question of right. You are nearly ten miles from thechateau, in the most unfrequented part of the island. Some day you willnot return to your friends. It will be too late to hunt for you then."

  "How very thrilling!" she said with a laugh.

  "I beg of you, do not treat it so lightly," he said, so sharply that sheflushed. He was looking intently in the direction of the men. She wasnot slow to see that their position had been discovered by the miners."They have seen us," he said briefly. "It is quite possible that they donot
mean to do anything desperate at this time, but you can readily seethat they will resent this proof of spying on our part. They mistake mefor one of the men from the chateau. Will you come with me now?"

  "It seems so absurd--but I will come, of course. I have no desire tocause you any uneasiness."

  As they rode swiftly back to the tree-lined road, a faint chorus ofyells came to them across the valley. For some distance they rodewithout speaking a word to each other. They had traversed two miles ofthe soft dirt road before Chase discovered that Selim was the only manfollowing them. The two men who had come out with the Princess were notin sight. He mentioned the fact to her, with a peculiar smile on hislips. They slackened the pace and Chase called Selim up from behind. Thelittle Arab's face was a study in its display of unwonted emotion.

  "Excellency," he replied, in answer to Chase's question, his voicetrembling with excitement, "they left me at the bend, a mile back. Theywill not return to the chateau."

  "The dogs! So, you see, Princess, your escort was not to be trusted,"said Chase grimly.

  "But they have stolen the horses," she murmured irrelevantly. "Theybelong to the chateau stables."

  "Which direction did they take, Selim?"

  "They rode off by the Carter's highway, Excellency, toward Aratat."

  "It may not appeal to your vanity, your Highness, but it is my duty toinform you that they have gone to report our clandestine meeting."

  "Clandestine! What do you mean, sir?"

  "The islanders are watching me like hawks. Every time I am seen with anyone from the chateau, they add a fresh nail to the coffin they arepreparing for me. It's really more serious than you imagine. I must,therefore, forbid you to ride outside of the park."

  They rode swiftly for another mile, silence being unbroken between them.She was trying to reconcile her pride to the justice of his command.

  "I daresay you are right, Mr. Chase," she said at last, quite frankly."I thank you."

  "I am glad that you understand," he said simply. His gaze was setstraight before him, keen, alert, anxious. They were riding through adark stretch of forest; the foliage came down almost to their faces;there was an almost impenetrable green wall on either side of them. Heknew, and she was beginning to suspect, that danger lurked in thepeaceful, sweet-smelling shades.

  "I begin to fear, Mr. Chase," she said, with a faint smile, "that LadyDeppingham deceived me in suggesting Japat as a rest cure. It mayinterest you to know that the court at Rapp-Thorberg has been very gaythis winter. Much has happened in the past few months."

  "I know," he said briefly, almost bitterly.

  "My brother, Christobal, has been with us after two years' absence. Hecame with his wife from the ends of the earth, and my father forgave himin good earnest. Christobal was very disobedient in the old days. Herefused to marry the girl my father chose for him. Was it not foolish ofhim?"

  "Not if it has turned out well in the end."

  "I daresay it has--or will. She is delightful. My father loves her. Andmy father--the Grand Duke, I should say--does not love those who crosshim. One is very fortunate to have been born a prince." He thought hedetected a note of bitterness in this raillery.

  "I can conceive of no greater fortune than to have been born Prince Karlof Brabetz," he said lightly. She flashed a quick glance at his face,her eyes narrowing in the effort to divine his humour. He saw the cloudwhich fell over her face and was suddenly silent, contrite for someunaccountable reason.

  "As I was saying," she resumed, after a moment, "Lady Deppingham haslured me from sunshowers into the tempest. Mr. Chase," and her face wassuddenly full of real concern, "is there truly great danger?"

  "I fear so," he answered. "It is only a question of time. I have triedto check this uprising, but I've failed. They don't trust me. Last nightVon Blitz, Rasula and three others came to the bungalow and coollyinformed me that my services were no longer required. I told them to--togo to--"

  "I understand," she said quickly. "It required courage to tell themthat." He smiled.

  "They protested friendship, but I can read very well as I run. But can'twe find something more agreeable to talk about? May I say that I havenot seen a newspaper in three months? The world has forgotten me. Theremust be news that you can give me. I am hungry for it."

  "You poor man! No newspapers! Then you don't know what has happened inall these months?"

  "Nothing since before Christmas. Would you like to see a bit of newsthat I clipped from the last Paris paper that came into my hands?"

  "Yes," she said, vaguely disturbed. He drew forth his pocketbook andtook from its interior a small bit of paper, which he handed to her, ashamed smile in his eyes. She read it at a glance and handed it back. Afaint touch of red came into her cheeks.

  "How very odd! Why should you have kept that bit of paper all thesemonths?"

  "I will admit that the announcement of the approaching nuptials of twopersons whom I had met so casually may seem a strange thing to cherish,but I am a strange person. You have been married nearly three months,"he said reflectively. "Three months and two days, to be precise."

  She laughed outright, a bewitching, merry laugh that startled him.

  "How accurate you would be," she exclaimed. "It would be a highlyinteresting achievement, Mr. Chase, if it were only borne out by facts.You see, I have not been married so much as three minutes."

  He stared at her, uncomprehending.

  She went on: "Do you consider it bad luck to postpone a wedding?"

  Involuntarily he drew his horse closer to hers. There was a new gleam inhis eyes; her blood leaped at the challenge they carried.

  "Very bad luck," he said quite steadily; "for the bridegroom."

  In an instant they seemed to understand something that had not even beenconsidered before. She looked away, but he kept his eyes fast upon herhalf-turned face, finding delight in the warm tint that surged soshamelessly to her brow. He wondered if she could hear the pounding ofhis heart above the thud of the horses' feet.

  "We are to be married in June," she said somewhat defiantly. Some of thelight died in his eyes. "Prince Karl was very ill. They thought he mightdie. His--his studies--his music, I mean, proved more than he couldcarry. It--it is not serious. A nervous break-down," she explainedhaltingly.

  "You mean that he--" he paused before finishing thesentence--"collapsed?"

  "Yes. It was necessary to postpone the marriage. He will be quite wellagain, they say--by June."

  Chase thought of the small, nervous, excitable prince and in his mindthere arose a great doubt. They might pronounce him cured, but would itbe true? "I hope he may be fully recovered, for your sake," he managedto say.

  "Thank you." After a long pause, she turned to him again and said: "Weare to live in Paris for a year or two at least."

  Then Chase understood. Prince Karl would not be entirely recovered inJune. He did not ask, but he knew in some strange way that hisphysicians were there and that it would be necessary for him to be nearthem.

  "He is in Paris now?"

  "No," she answered, and that was all. He waited, but she did not expandher confidence.

  "So it is to be in June?" he mused.

  "In June," she said quietly. He sighed.

  "I am more than sorry that you are a princess," he said boldly.

  "I am quite sure of that," she said, so pointedly that he almost gasped.She was laughing comfortably, a mischievous gleam in her dark eyes. Hislaugh was as awkward as hers was charming.

  "You _do_ like to be flattered," he exclaimed at random. "And I shalltake it upon myself to add to to-day's measure." He again drew forth hispocketbook. She looked on curiously. "Permit me to restore the lacehandkerchief which you dropped some time ago. I've been keeping it formyself, but----"

  "My handkerchief?" she gasped, her thoughts going at once to thatridiculous incident of the balcony. "It must belong to Lady Deppingham."

  "Oh, it isn't the one you used on the balcony," he protested coolly. "Itantedates that ad
venture."

  "Balcony? I don't understand you," she contested.

  "Then you are exceedingly obtuse."

  "I never dreamed that you could see," she confessed pathetically.

  "It was extremely nice in you and very presumptuous in me. But, yourhighness, this is the handkerchief you dropped in the Castle garden sixmonths ago. Do you recognise the perfume?"

  She took it from his fingers gingerly, a soft flush of interestsuffusing her cheek. Before she replied, she held the dainty bit of laceto her straight little nose.

  "You are very sentimental," she said at last. "Would you care to keepit? It is of no value to me."

  "Thanks, I will keep it."

  "I've changed my mind," she said inconsequently, stuffing the fabric inher gauntlet. "You have something else in that pocketbook that I shouldvery much like to possess."

  "It can't be that Bank of England--"

  "No, no! You wrapped it in a bit of paper last week and placed it therefor safe keeping."

  "You mean the bullet?"

  "Yes. I should like it. To show to my friends, you know, when I tellthem how near you were to being shot." Without a word he gave her thebullet that had dropped at his feet on that first day at the chateau."Thank you. Oh, isn't it a horrid thing! Just to think, it might havestruck you!" She shuddered.

  He was about to answer in his delirium when a sharp turn in the roadbrought them in view of the chateau. Not a hundred yards ahead of themtwo persons were riding slowly, unattended, very much occupied inthemselves. Their backs were toward Chase and the Princess, but it wasan easy matter to recognise them. The glance which shot from thePrincess to Chase found a peculiar smile disappearing from his lips.

  "I know what you are thinking," she cried impulsively "You arewrong--very wrong, Mr. Chase. Lady Deppingham is a born coquette--a borntrifler. It is ridiculous to think that she can be seriously engaged ina--"

  "It isn't that, Princess," he interrupted, a dark look in his eyes. "Iwas merely wondering whether dear little Mrs. Browne is as happy as shemight be."

  Genevra was silent for a moment.

  "I had not thought of that," she said soberly.